Box 250 etc. etc.

Gradually, grandchildren floated up that long lane to the Farmhouse like falling blossoms.  Those grandchildren laughed like  a hundred babbling brooks and moved like the wind.  The children who are called grand and are many more in numbers by now.  They are as we speak gracing dozens of places on the globe just like the brilliant blossoms that they are.   …nope, they are not finished yet.  Some,  along with mates are still looking upward into their careers.  I dare to think that just a little of the Farmhouse experience went into each of their horizons.  In the memory of knowing, it is clear that each child who is grand, has made this writer’s life as rich as any mortal life can be.

Was there pain and frustration at the Farmhous [?] of course ! That is part of the stuff of life.  The total aggregate of good far outweighs the blemishes of energetic living.  But as the reader knows by now, the Farmhouse spawned seven children — now adults–who are continuing to finish their challenging and fascinating work of their own creation.  I think it is called works in progress.

I end these words about the Farmhouse with this thought:  Nothing lasts forever [nothing ever should] and nothing good is ever lost, ever.

mosswood 2012

Other subjects to follow.

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~ by mosswood on April 30, 2012.

4 Responses to “Box 250 etc. etc.”

  1. I like that 🙂

  2. I treasure a plethora of wonderful memories from the farmhouse days.

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